


Deck the Halls

by Mistflyer1102



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Cat Involved, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Domestic Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistflyer1102/pseuds/Mistflyer1102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Bond and Q prepare to share their first Christmas together as a couple, the primary challenge arises not from the gifts or whose flat to stay at, but rather the Christmas tree itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stephrc79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephrc79/gifts).



“Someone spiked the eggnog again.”

“Really? Even after last year?” Bond said, glancing over at Q as he buttoned his thick coat up, reaching out to catch Q’s elbow as the other stumbled slightly from off-balance as he tried to get his own coat on with one hand and teeth. “One would think that all repeat incidents would be avoided, although it does explain why you were prowling around the room for the second hour of the party, frisking the few agents present,” he said, arching an eyebrow when Q shrugged one shoulder, scowling faintly as Bond handed him his scarf.

“Yes, one would think that, but apparently some people have yet to learn how to ‘forgive and forget’,” Q said, glancing back at the MI6 annual holiday party still in full swing, music thumping audibly even in the hall. Glancing at Bond, he started to walk beside the agent down the hall towards the front entrance, leaning on Bond slightly and allowing Bond to wrap an arm around his waist. “The frisking was a precautionary measure, since I couldn’t get to Mallory and warn him because we had six politicians from Parliament present, including the Prime Minister and the Minister of Defence,” he admitted quietly, ducking his head in embarrassment even as Bond snorted in amusement.

“You didn’t say anything to him, then?” Bond said, raising an eyebrow as they rounded the corner towards the front lobby, where he could see ten night security officers on duty. Only three or four looked up at their entry, but went back to various books and magazines a few minutes later.

“If he doesn’t know by now, he’ll find out soon enough. Rum has a distinct taste, even if it did take me two cups to catch on,” Q admitted, wrapping his hand around Bond’s as though for both comfort and support—not that he needed it too much, he was still walking relatively steady compared to other tipsy individuals despite his light bodyweight. _I’ll have to keep an eye on that._ He looked down at Q to find the other man dozing slightly before he ran a gentle hand through the thick hair.

“Do you want me to bring the car around?” he asked quietly, glancing at the nearest security officer in consideration.

“Oh, no, no, I can walk to the car, just a bit sleepy. There’s a reason I don’t usually go to these parties, and part of it has to do with needing alcohol to get through the second half,” Q said, making a face as Bond turned to use a shoulder to push the front door open, cold air blasting into the two of them and startling Q into straightening up, blinking as he followed Bond into the night. “You learn those sort of survival techniques when your mother insists on dragging you to every, single, family function, year after year. I almost bowed out of this evening’s party as it was,” he said, wiggling slightly in Bond’s grip to pull out his mobile. “I have to tell Tanner, I’ll be thinking about it all evening otherwise.”

Smirking, Bond leaned forward and brushed his lips against Q’s ear, nuzzling the dark hair. “I would be… _delighted_  to take your mind off of those problems this evening, if you’re so inclined,” he whispered, dropping the pitch of his voice and feeling the full-body shiver that ran up Q’s spine before the younger man turned to face him, their noses nearly brushing against each other.

“I might be inclined. Especially if you have a potential solution to the eggnog problem that would be sufficient to keep M quiet and not make me go to the party next year, which in turn would make more time that we could spend together in the privacy of the flat,” Q said, lifting his chin to catch the kiss intended for the tip of his nose.

“Perhaps if you expanded the limited bar from just two pre-approved drinks, it might reduce the chances of the eggnog being used as the third option,” he replied, cautiously entertaining the appealing idea of a next year to himself. _Assuming he still wants me around at that point and I'm still alive, God knows I've tried to cut back on mission-related risks in the last few months but there's no telling what could happen_ _._  He shook his head slightly, to brush the thoughts aside in favor of the current topic. “Did you ever catch the people responsible for last year?” he asked instead, recalling his abrupt recruitment into the search because he was the only still-armed agent in the branch when Q caught onto a doctored security camera trail. He paused long enough to nudge Q around suspect ice patches on the pavement before walking down the rest of the road that curved gently behind the facility to the partially underground parking garage, keeping a hand loosely around the other’s waist. 

“Turns out three staff from different departments, one of which was mine, framed Trevelyan and Falsworth for putting vodka in the bowl right before it was taken out to the buffet table,” Q replied, as they entered the garage, Bond fishing through his pockets for the missing key fob. “Something about revenge for a prank in the mess hall kitchens. R also denies involvement, but some of those cameras required my passcodes to get into, so I don’t quite believe him. He was careful though, so there’s no evidence that links back to him,” he said, pulling out of Bond’s embrace to pull out his mobile, which buzzed. “I’m sorry, excuse me. It’s Mum, and she won’t stop unless I reply,” he said, swiping the display.

Bond nodded, finally locating the fob and unlocking the car with a flash of chirping lights. He’d only met Mrs. Winfield once before, a chance encounter in Q’s flat after he’d climbed through Q’s fifth storey window in order to surprise Q with intact equipment. He and Q had played it off as a prank, but Bond still wasn’t sure if she entirely believed either of them, especially since she’d given him a few appraising looks across the table throughout dinner later that evening. His only consolation was that she hadn’t outright asked either of them if they were dating, given that he and Q had still been figuring out the depth of their relationship at the time. “How is she doing?” he asked when he saw Q stuff the mobile back into his pocket and walk towards the passenger side of the car.

“Fine, she wanted to know how many she should RSVP to Aunt Mara’s Christmas party this year,” Q said as he opened his door and slid inside. “Apparently, when you and I went to Vienna that one weekend last month, there was an impromptu family reunion that I didn’t know about until after we got back,” he said, closing his door as Bond started the car and guided it out of the slot and among the rows of cars to the exit. He shook his head and said, “I suspect there’s a betting pool that they were hoping to resolve soon.”

“Did you want to go?” Bond asked mildly, pulling up to the main road and sparing a quick glance before turning right for the road leading to Westminster Bridge, nearly racing the light to get onto the bridge itself. “Mara is the one who lives in France with the lawyer, right?” he asked, glancing briefly in Q’s direction.

“Right. But I told her perhaps next year; after that clusterfuck in Bosnia two months ago, I thought you would want to do something quiet this year, especially without prying family members hovering around you,” Q admitted quietly, his profile visible in the dark interior as the street lights passed the window when Bond glanced at him. Bond reached over without thinking, wrapping the slender fingers in his own as he felt a familiar burst of affection in his chest, his fingers tightening slightly as though to hold onto Q as long as he could.

“If you wanted to go, I could talk to M about getting time off,” he said carefully after a moment, turning his attention back to the road long enough to shift lanes and prepare for the next light. He took advantage of the nearly empty roads to split his attention between Q and the road, his mouth twitching into a slight smile when he felt Q release his hand. “God knows I have plenty of unused leave time I could use for a week or so, and I know that you rarely see your family during the year because of work,” he pointed out, leaning forward to turn up the car heater a notch.

Q shrugged with one shoulder, eyeing the mobile before tossing it onto the dashboard. “Honestly, I think I can last one year without seeing my cousins, nearly injured my back last year because of them,” he said, his grin visible in the next pool of streetlight as he stretched in his seat. “M might appreciate it as well, we’ll both be in reach and not too far from headquarters if an emergency came up.”

“That and I’d be under an approved and reliable form of supervision, so he’ll rest easy this Christmas,” Bond said, pointedly glancing at Q before turning his attention back to the road, spotting the turn-off for the small street that led to Q’s flat. Without thinking, he immediately took the turn, cutting off another driver and earning several irate honks and muted shouts behind him.

“Well, being under ‘approved and reliable’ supervision didn’t stop you just then,” Q said, frowning slightly as he looked back over his shoulder at the irate driver behind them. He shook his head as he slid back into his seat. “The supervision is really not about keeping you out of trouble, M only started it because he wanted to make sure that you weren’t making inappropriate advances towards me that I was unable to refuse, back when we first started seeing each other,” Q explained, leaning back in his seat with a smile as Bond snorted in disbelief. “He’d requested analysis reports on the new tech, and asked why your subdermal tracker was frequently logged in around my neighborhood. He asked if I wanted him to call you off,” he said, grinning when Bond rolled his eyes.

“I think we all know that you could have gotten rid of me at any point without M’s interference,” Bond said, pulling into the small car park of Q’s building and turning the engine off a few moments later. “Aside from the lethal biometric security system you have on your front door, that demon cat from Hell is enough of a deterrent in her own right,” Bond added, easily blocking Q’s swipe and catching Q’s hand. “She’s drawn blood long before coming after me, Q, don’t lie,” he said, turning the hand over to kiss the back before squeezing the fingers gently.

“She’s a normal cat, double-oh seven, and she’s not a demon just because she chose to chase you instead of running off to sulk after hissing and spitting for a few minutes. Of course, you _do_ remember that you’d just broken into my flat for the third time that time, right?” Q said, smiling as Bond released his hand. He paused after unbuckling himself, and then looked up at Bond. “Do you want to come up, perhaps stay the night?” he offered after a moment, Bond easily spotting the light of hope in the hazel eyes he’d grown familiar with over the last eleven months.

“I would love to, assuming that Missy doesn’t mind me being in her territory again,” Bond said, smirking even as he reached for his own safety belt buckle.

Q grinned even as he nodded. “I’m sure she won’t mind. Surely you’ve had pets before?” he said as they both got out of the car, Bond swearing softly under his breath at the unexpected transition between the heated car interior and the outside. “You know how territorial they can get," he said, tilting his head in curiosity.

“You have no idea,” Bond replied in a light tone as he followed Q to the entrance, allowing Q to swipe his key over the reader. “I have two dogs back home, Ilsa and Winston. They usually stay with Kincade, and he always had at least two dogs on the Skyfall property before and after my parents died,” he added as he finally let Q go on the threshold and followed him towards the lifts. He frowned, momentarily surprised that he still remembered that much; it had been years since he spent Christmas at Skyfall, or with anyone he considered family. “Aunt Charmain never liked having the dogs in the house, but stopped complaining when I snuck them indoors after I came back home from school. She always said they made too much of a mess, especially the one year Kyla crashed into the tree while chasing a ball,” he said, leaning against the wall as Q summoned a lift.

Q laughed softly, shaking his head as the lift let out a soft _ding_. “Oh God, was she a Labrador like the two you have now?” he said as the two of them stepped onto the lift and Q pressed the button for his floor.

“Yes, she was the most similar to Winston even though they weren’t related,” Bond said, pulling Q gently closer to him and allowed him to rest his head against Bond’s chest. “If something was broken, it was definitely because of her. It didn’t help that she was often covered in evidence from the crime scene, combing pine needles out of dog fur is harder than you’d think it was,” he said, ducking his head as he unwittingly recalled being knocked to the ground by two enthusiastic Labradors each time he returned to Skyfall , smiling slightly at the memory. He glanced at Q, and asked, “Did you grow up with Missy, or another cat?”

“Hm. Missy’s lived with Mum only for ten years before I took her, but in those ten years, she’s not only knocked the tree over at least three times, but also got her head stuck in a tube of wrapping paper once. That was during a party my mother hosted, everyone but my mother thought it was hilarious when Missy panicked and started trying to shake the tube off,” Q said, lowering an arm and pulling back his coat and shirt sleeves to reveal thin white lines on his forearm. “Had to hold her down with several towels just so Mum could cut the tube off, Missy was fine after that. I’m still convinced she knocked the tree over later that week out of spite.”

“I believe that,” Bond said with as much conviction as possible without breaking face, only failing with a grin when Q scowled and feigned another half-hearted smack against Bond’s shoulder. “Has she knocked trees over since moving in with you?” he asked as the lift doors opened and they both stepped out and walked down the familiar hall to Q’s front door.

“No, I haven’t really had a chance to get one since joining MI6. I lost even more time to work once I became Quartermaster, and I feel bad enough about not giving Missy more attention. I’d like to have a tree at some point, but it wouldn’t survive with the current work schedule,” Q admitted as he unlocked his door and stuck a foot in the crack. He knelt, grinning as he reached into the door and pulled out a furry calico bundle and settled it on his shoulder. “Well, hello princess. How are you this evening?” he cooed softly as he tucked the cat into her favored position on his shoulder. Bond didn’t comment, just warily regarded his green-eyed arch-nemesis before nudging the door more open to step past Q, pretending that he didn’t hear the faint hiss and the brush of claws against his shoulder.

“Well, why not this year? We could get a tree for the flat, we’d just have to find a way to keep her out of it,” he suggested, surveying the living room as he pulled his gloves off, first moving aside to let Q into the flat and then reached over Q to close the door behind him. _Perhaps we could put it in the corner between the kitchenette and the living room, or in front of the window, which would also deter snipers, but not near the heater vents. At least away from the mantelpiece, in case Missy tries to use that as a launch point._ “It could be a little tree too, doesn’t have to be extremely tall…”

“But who would keep it alive? I may have to go in on Monday and Tuesday, and while I don’t plan to stay late, there’s no telling what may happen,” Q said, frowning as Missy burrowed her face into his hair, a paw protectively curled around his neck.

“I’ll still be in London, though, and I’ll go in on Monday long enough to tell M that I’m taking the week off,” Bond said, pulling his gloves off. “We could put it in my flat if you want to avoid feline accidents—”

“What? No, no, here is fine, actually that would be wonderful. I, erm, was hoping you’d want to stay here until and after Christmas, overnight that is,” Q said, capturing and holding Bond’s gaze with a hopeful expression. “We can share the bed, as we usually do when you come to visit, and I would really appreciate if it you could. Stay,” he said, carefully shifting Missy to one arm so that he could start unbuttoning his own coat.

“Q, I would be honored,” Bond said with a soft smile of his own. He moved forward to help Q with the buttons only to nearly earn a swipe. “As for Missy, we could get a solid good stand, keep the tree away from the mantel, and move any glass ornaments away from the floor. Perhaps less breakable ornaments near the bottom,” he suggested as he began to undo the top buttons, Q keeping a hand on Missy’s paws.

“Won’t it be difficult to find a tree with those exact specifications?” Q asked, brow furrowing as Missy started to turn her head around until Q blocked her. “Especially this close to Christmas, the shops must be a nightmare around now,” he said, turning back to Bond.

“No, it shouldn’t be. Tess mentioned the other day too that there are still places selling trees, so we shouldn’t have a problem finding one,” Bond said, pulling his mobile out from his coat pocket to text the other Double-O. “I’ll ask if we can borrow her car, so mine doesn’t get scratched,” he said, sending the message before putting aside so he could finally get his coat off and hanging it up. “We can get decorations tomorrow after the tree, which will need to settle out before we do anything to it.” He started to walk into the flat when he realized that Q was staring at him. “What?” he asked, frowning at Q over his shoulder.

“The tree and decorations don’t come together?” Q asked after a moment, brows knitting together in confusion.

Bond slowly shook his head. “Sometimes they do, but I used to decorate mine when I was younger. Didn’t you decorate the tree with your mother?” he asked, turning around to face Q, rolling his shoulders back to relieve the tension.

Q shook his head. “If I did, it must have been when I was very young, usually I worked on gadgets by myself or with a cousin every year in the days leading up to Christmas. There were a few light-up ornaments that Mum would ask me to fix, but mostly I just tinkered in what free time I had in December. School usually got extremely hectic leading up to vacation, and at that point, I just wanted to work on gadgets. Mum usually hung the wreath and garlands, but I never really decorated the tree with her in recent years,” he admitted slowly, face pinking slightly at the admission.

“We’ll do it this year, lights, ornaments, tinsel if you’re so inclined,” Bond said, already thinking quickly of numerous places that had to still be selling lights and ornaments this late; definitely tree shops, along with any convenience stores. Worst-case scenario, he could always poke around the numerous departments at MI6 and see if anyone had extra decorations they didn’t mind parting with just for the season.

“My only stipulation is no tinsel, I don’t want to risk Missy getting sick,” Q said, rubbing the calico’s back before he tried to set her down, earning a growl and her claws sinking further into his coat. “Erm, James? Can you take her for a few minutes?”

“Q, she’ll claw my eyes out,” Bond said, scowling when Missy nuzzled against Q’s neck. “I am _not_ getting close to her.”

“James, you are Agent Double-oh Seven of Her Majesty’s Secret Service and the de facto leader of the Double-Oh program. Do _not_ tell me that you’re afraid of a harmless house cat,” Q said, slowly exhaling before he tried to pull her off again, only stopping when both men heard a low growl from Missy’s throat. “This cat is _nothing_ to what you’ve faced in the field.”

 _I’m allowed to defend myself in the field,_ Bond thought, scowling before he reached for Missy’s middle, grimacing at the sound of tearing fabric as he finally tugged her off of Q’s shoulder. She was already wriggling in an attempt to break free, hissing and growling with claws extended before she twisted around and he set her down on the floor before she could scratch him while breaking free. With a final hiss, she darted underneath the couch, the tip of her tail disappearing from sight when Q finished getting his coat and shoes off. “She really does hate me,” he remarked as Q walked up to him, sliding his hands across Bond’s shoulders, comfortingly warm and familiar through the shirt fabric.

“She’s just jealous because she knows she has to share,” Q said, leaning forward for a kiss, allowing Bond to reach gently around his head and wind his fingers in the dark hair as Bond closed his eyes, silently reveling in the familiar warmth.

“I’ve wanted to do that all evening,” he murmured against Q’s lips before pressing another kiss against warm skin. “I’ve wanted you all evening,” he whispered before nuzzling down the side of Q’s neck and jaw, gently biting at the soft skin.

“Oh good, not just me then,” Q said, huffing a laugh before his breath caught when Bond nibbled his pulse point. “Bedroom, so Missy can’t get in,” he said when Bond let a hand rest near Q’s trouser waistband, running fingers underneath the edge of the fabric as Bond cupped a hip with the other. Bond felt him grin against his neck, and then faintly heard him murmur, “I’m happy right now, so very happy to have this with you.”

“And I with you.” He felt Q tugging on his trousers, and allowed the younger man to gently push him backwards towards their bedroom.

For once, he was looking forward to Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas gift fic for the fantastic (and patient) stephrc79! 
> 
> It is based off the following prompt: "Q and Bond's first Christmas, and Bond discovering that Q has no concept of how to decorate a tree because while his family did the tree thing, he was busy doing sciencey-tech things. Either frustrated!Q or excited!Q who ends up rewiring the lights to flash in time to the music. Maybe he even gerry-rigs a few of the ornaments to come to life, freaking out both Bond and the cat I can only assume they have." 
> 
> **A quick disclaimer:** The mentioned incident with the wrapping paper tube is actually based off of one of my cats getting into the exact situation a few years ago, so rest assured, he was perfectly fine afterwards.


	2. Chapter 2

“Q, where are—what are you doing?”

“Research, thought I would get something done while I waited for you to get up,” Q said without looking up from his laptop, switching between the three webpages on the pros and cons of LED lights over incandescent. He glanced up to see that James had walked around the sofa and coffee table, ready to go with jeans and a snug jumper visible through the half-open jacket. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he asked, standing up himself in order to take care of his mug. A discreet glance at the kitchen clock told him that it was nine-thirty, but he knew that James was usually up sooner if he hadn’t had vigorous exercise or was returning from a mission the night before. _Although we definitely had ‘vigorous exercise’_ , Q recalled, cheeks coloring slightly as he felt a light twinge in his lower back when he leaned forward to open the dishwasher.

“When would you have woken me up?” James asked, arms wrapping around Q’s waist as he rested a chin on Q’s shoulder. Q smiled when he felt James nose aside some of the curls, but held back on a response for a moment.

“Last night, I woke up at five with a few ideas but realized that it all depended on the type of lights we got for the tree,” he said finally, waving vaguely in the direction of the laptop as he put his mug away and turned around in James’s arms. “Then I snuck back into the room to get dressed,” he said, resting his hands on James’s forearms. He frowned for a moment, and then asked, “What are your thoughts on LED versus incandescent?”

“LED. Alec and I tested different tree lights a few years ago with the Q-Branch trees when the branch were getting rid of them after the holiday was over. LED was the hardest to set fire with, and we only succeeded when we achieved an electrical overload,” James said, reaching over Q for his travel mug that Q had set aside earlier that morning. He backed away and moved to the side to take a spoon from the drawer, undoubtedly feeling the warmth of the drink through the sides. “Does your landlord have any rules concerning trees that we should know about?” he asked, leaning against the opposite counter from Q.

Q grimaced at the thought of the cross old man, one Mr. Hadley, that lived on the ground floor directly across from the lifts, making it difficult to sneak anything or anyone past him. “Probably just that we don’t burn the place down. I’ve seen some of the neighbors bringing trees in over the last few weeks, so it’s definitely permitted. And if we clean up any needles that fall in the transition, although if we get one of the firs, we shouldn’t have to worry too much about something like that,” he said, reaching reflexively for a laptop that wasn’t there. Flexing his fingers before leaning back against the counter, he noticed from his vantage point that Missy had taken up residence in the only sunlight patch in the entire living room, easily within running distance of the front door even if she was asleep.

“Let’s see what the place has first, the selection may be limited because it’s less than a week until Christmas,” James replied, turning as though to follow Q’s line of sight towards the cat. “And Tess replied earlier this morning, she’ll give us the car for the day. She said she’ll be here in a few minutes to switch cars with me,” he said, pulling his mobile out to examine the display.

“What? When did you get her message?” Q asked, twisting around to look for his own mobile. “I thought she was still in Greece—why did no one tell me she was back?”

“Maybe because R thought you could use the weekend off,” James replied. He gestured towards the mobile with the travel mug before he said, “I caught her on her way back home, she said she could stop by and leave the Aston Martin at headquarters. I get the keys back once I return her car.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Q said, closing his eyes briefly to fight the urge to immediately leave for headquarters to check Tess back in. He’d been scaling his own hours back for several months now, even from before formally dating James, but habits were hard to break, especially when they concerned his own branch. “Let me just get my jacket, and then we can take care of Missy long enough to get out the front door.”

James nodded before downing the rest of his coffee, spluttering and coughing a few minutes later as Q raised a towel to shield himself. “Won’t do that again,” he managed to say as Q tossed the towel into the direction of the laundry basket.

“Good idea.”

After slipping on his jacket, Q picked up the toy mouse and rubbed it in catnip as James grabbed his keys and joined Q at the door. He threw the mouse across the flat, down the hall, and off a door while James opened the front door. Missy’s head jerked up when the bell jangled merrily and tore after it, her claws clicking across the floor until she clawed her way up and over the sofa. They both heard a faint _thump_ a few moments later while Q slipped out into the hall and James closed the door behind him with practiced ease. “We’ll have to find a way to keep her in one place when we bring the tree in,” James remarked as he gestured for Q to lock the flat and lead the way down the hall.

“We’ll shut her up in the bedroom,” Q said, zipping his jacket up before summoning the lift. “In the meantime, I can call my mother and see if she has any ornaments she’d like to part with this year,” he said, leaning against the wall as James leaned back against the opposite wall, patiently watching Q. “I remember having a few that looked like ships from Star Wars and Star Trek, and had special effects when you plugged them into the Christmas light sockets for power. _Those_ I definitely remember, I always fixed them whenever they broke,” he said as the doors behind him opened.

“We’ll have to get the lights first, once the tree has a chance to settle out overnight,” James said as he followed Q inside. “Do you remember which lights you had growing up?” he asked as the lift descended again. “We always used the white steady lights, I remember Charmain insisting on it every year.”

“We had multi-colored, but with two different strands since there were lights that did and didn’t blink. But there’s no reason we can’t do both,” Q said, already thinking. “Multi-colored blinking, and then white steady lights?” he offered, attempting to tilt back for a kiss when James rested his forehead against Q’s.

“Sounds fair enough,” James said, grinning as he pressed a gentle kiss against Q’s forehead, pulling away before Q could reciprocate the gesture. Instead, he waited until Q caught up to him before heading out the front lobby doors and out into the brisk air.

Tess stood on the curb in front of the building, leaning against a Ford Focus that had a few dents along the slightly rusty frame, her head bowed over her mobile. She only looked up when the two of them approached her, tucking her mobile away in her gray coat before fishing around for a set of keys. “Bond,” she said, glancing between the two of them with a raised eyebrow before she held out the keys. “Don’t send my car back to the shop, my husband just had it repaired after _he_ damaged it in a jaunt around Cardiff,” she warned as Bond took her keys and handed over his.

“Don’t get spit-up in the backseat or scratches on the paint,” he replied, glancing pointedly at the dents before he moved around, already unlocking the car.

“That was one fucking time,” Tess muttered under her breath before she turned to Q, pulling a scrap piece of paper out of her coat pocket. “Please make sure he doesn’t break it. Here, it’s a list of the three places I’ve gotten trees from in the past; they should all still have trees now. I recommend this one,” she said, tapping the second of the three addresses. “They’ve always got a good selection, and I rely on them to have trees and supplies even at the last minute,” she said, folding her arms across her chest as Q studied the paper. “I can return the car this evening, just text me when you’re ready.”

“All right, thank you.” He hesitated, and then asked, “I trust all is well?”

She nodded once. “You go with James. R and I can handle check-in by ourselves,” she said, mouth twitching into a half-smile.

Q nodded. “Very well. Please remind him to put everything back in its box so that I can get started with damage assessments he said before walking past her to the car. He returned her salute before walking around the front to the passenger seat. “She recommends the second address,” he said, passing over the slip of paper as he sat down and buckled himself in. “And that you don’t break the car.”

James studied the paper for a moment, and nodded. “Assuming this car doesn’t fall down between there and here,” he muttered under his breath as the engine rattled for a second before finally running smoothly again. “What the hell was Will doing in Cardiff, anyway?” he asked as he pulled out into the road again, turning the car sharply around to head back to the main street.

“I asked him to run a delivery for me, but he accidentally stepped on the toes of another organization that apparently lives there. They weren’t in the government files, so I had no way of knowing that they were there,” Q said, frowning as he sent a quick message to his mother, whom he was fairly sure hadn’t left for France yet. _If not, I can just break into the my old bedroom window on the top floor, I don’t think I ever got around to fixing it,_ he thought, pocketing the phone and straightening in his seat. “Before I forget, I did measure the height between the ceiling and the floor while you were in the shower,” he said, taking the paper slip back to jot a few numbers down from his phone before handing it to James.

“Good idea. Your landlord might have our heads if we get the tree stuck in the door,” James said, examining the paper before stuffing it into a pocket. “That and we’ll have to keep the tree width down. But don’t worry so much about it, we’re selecting a tree, not strategizing for a critical mission,” he said, glancing at Q before returning his attention back to the road.

“You could definitely classify tree-hunting as a mission, if you wanted to make it fun,” Q said, shaking his head to himself as James bit back a smile. “That and I wanted to make sure the tree fit through the door,” he said after a moment, frowning as he pulled his mobile out to check something online when a video compilation ad for house lights popped up, blocking his attempt to access the Christmas Shop website. Intrigued, he switched to another page after the ad to examine an ongoing Christmas lights contest in the States, namely the few videos available of the contest entries.

_If it’s possible to do those effects for a house, it’s definitely possible for a tree, right?_

Tess’s address led them to a small tree shop near the main road, its little adjoining car par only partly full. Q straightened in his seat, reaching out and holding onto the door handle as James shifted several lanes over before finally managing to make the sharp left turn. Letting go of the door handle, he bookmarked the page with the video compilations of past light contests before swiping back to the main menu and powering the mobile down. James parked near the entrance, backing into the slot at a slight angle so that they wouldn’t have to drag a tree far once they selected it.

“You said the tree would need time to settle out, right?” he asked, eyeing one of the nearby firs in the side mirror.

“Yes, but the lights won’t go anywhere near Q-Branch in the meantime, I’ve seen some of the special effects that you all managed to conjure up, especially last year. I’d like to avoid fires instead of cause them when I'm at home in my downtime,” James said with a note of suspicion in his voice as he turned the car off, glancing at Q with a wary eye. 

“Oh, I was just going to tinker with them back at the flat, I got distracted online and found some ideas that I would like to try,” Q replied, holding his mobile up for emphasis. “It’s a surprise, but I promise not to do anything extensive or involving the labs,” he said when he saw the question forming in James’s eyes.

“No projectiles?”

“Don’t want Missy to choke on something,” Q pointed out.

James was quiet for a moment. “Try to avoid overloading the circuit breaker again?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Promise.”

Q grinned when James leaned over for a kiss. “Which strand will you use, then?” he asked, leaning forward slightly on the steering wheel.

“The blinking strands, hopefully we’ll only need two,” Q said before he pushed his door open and slid out of the car, pausing momentarily to breathe in the unexpectedly cold air, which burned the inside of his nose. Closing his door, he headed over to the rows of trees, the snow, ice and gravel of the car park crunching underneath his feet as he heard James also get out of the car behind him.

He paused at the first row of trees with only a cursory glance before moving deeper into the rows, careful to stay away to avoid getting pine needles stuck to his jacket. The scent of pine and balsam struck him as oddly comforting, bringing to mind the numerous years he’d spent with only his mother when he was much younger. He could still recall the prickly needles under little fingers as the housecat—not Missy—bumped against his legs, nearly knocking him over while his mother cooked. _I may not leave London this year, but I’m still with family,_ he thought, glancing down the row of trees to see James examining the tag of another tree. He watched as the agent glanced around before spotting him, nodded once, and then went back to the tag before making a face and slipping between trees to the next row.

Grinning to himself, Q followed, nearly losing his glasses to the branches as he squeezed between trees. “See anything yet?” he asked quietly as he joined James’s side near one that surpassed James in height.

“What’s the kind that doesn’t shed needles?” James asked after a moment before drifting to another tree, allowing Q to link arms with him. He glanced at Q with a smile and pulled him closer, catching Q when the younger man stumbled and nearly collided into James. He glanced around once before ducking down for a quick kiss. “So which tree would give us the least amount of mess, taking Missy into account?” he asked, checking the couple down the row for any threat before pulling Q closer.

“Firs usually shed little to no needles, but Douglas firs can be expensive. Nordmann firs are currently popular, but balsams can hold onto their needles even when dried out, so that might be good if one of us can’t water it every day. I think Mum always got the Norway Spruce, I have a vivid memory of getting paid with free tech one year just to pick the needles out of Missy’s fur. That was one of the years she knocked it over by jumping on it, so we’ll have to keep our tree far from the mantle if possible,” Q said, pulling out the slip of paper with his flat’s measurements. He examined the few numbers he’d written down before leaning forward to examine the tag, comparing the dimensions. “We could get this one, it’s a little shorter than my flat ceiling, and it won’t cause a problem if you just stick it in the door. Not to mention we’d still have to trim the trunk for a stand…” he stopped and twisted around to look at James, brow furrowed in concern. “Do we have a stand?”

“No, but they sell them here. We can go out for dinner tonight, and get lights after. Then they’re all yours,” James said, stepping forward after Q backed away to let him in close. “Is the proprietor nearby?” he asked in a softer voice as he pulled out a pair of thick work gloves.

 _What?_ Q frowned, but backed far enough into the middle path and glanced both ways before heading to one end of a row, frowning when he immediately failed to locate the proprietor. He checked the till next, underneath a wooden overhang where he could see containers of coffee and cider on a table near a few stands and branch shears among other supplies. A couple was assisting a few customers, and one wore a bright vest. “They’re both helping customers right now,” he said, returning to James’s side. “But I don’t see why that’s important unless you’ve decided on this—” he began as James reached for the trunk and used both hands to lift the tree off the ground.

_FWUMP!_

Q somehow managed to duck underneath his anorak just as pine needles fell, some raining down on him while others fluttered straight to the ground. He looked up to see that James had only dropped the tree back to the ground, watching a couple needles settle before turning to Q “Still want this one?” he asked, looking innocently at Q’s disgruntled expression, eyes flicking between Q and the needles Q could feel in his hair

“Yes… was that a test for dry needles?” Q asked, looking suspiciously between James and the tree. “Or did you do it on purpose because you wanted to get the bloody needles on _me_?”

James shrugged with a shoulder as he tore off the perforated portion of the tag, grinning as he refused to openly answer either question. “It held its needles pretty well. And to think I’m thinking ahead here, I could have done that in the flat,” he said, grinning when Q looked up sharply at him. “Missy would have _hated_ it, needles getting in her fur.”

Q briefly closed his eyes, mentally shuddering at the thought of picking pine needles out of Missy again. “Then yes, I’m immensely glad you didn’t do that in the flat,” he said at last, scowling playfully at James, who merely smirked as he led the way. "And I definitely think you did that on purpose, to get needles on me. You could have easily done that anywhere else," he said, brushing off his shoulders when he caught James fighting back a smile. " _You--_ "

James merely dodged his swipe, grinning even as Q muttered " _Fuck_ ," under his breath before giving chase. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for the delay on this one, things came up over here).


	3. Chapter 3

Bond never truly realized how much he disliked cats until he met Missy.

“Come back here, you furry little monster. Daddy’s not here to protect you so don’t even _try_ to look for him,” he growled as he knelt to look under the sofa, his anger dissipating slightly when he spotted Missy hovering near the other side, still puffed up with having suffered the indignation of getting pine needles in her fur and having Bond chase her all over the flat for the last hour. Getting down on his stomach, he reached for her, watching the paws instead of her face. “Daddy is actually going to be vexed with _me_ if I don’t get all the pine needles before you track them all over the place…unless that was your master plan all along,” he said, flattening his hand against the floor when Missy growled. He _could_ just reach in and drag her out by the scruff to use a lint roller on the needles, but she had claws and he didn’t have his leather jacket.

Missy only hissed in response, bunching herself up against one of the sofa legs.

Bond didn’t dare look up when he heard the key scrape in the lock of the door behind him, but Missy didn’t dare bolt from her hiding place. “Hello James, do I want to know what you’re doing?” he heard Q ask as he closed the door, clothes rustling as he took his coat off and hung it up.  “Missy! Missy, where are you girl? She’s not tearing something to pieces under there, is she?” he asked worriedly as Bond heard his footsteps walk around the coffee table before Q knelt on the other side to look as well.

“No, she’s just hiding because she doesn’t want you to know that she’s got pine needles in her fur because she was trying to climb up the tree earlier,” Bond said, glancing at Q, who frowned before reaching under the sofa and tapping his fingers against the floor, catching her attention. “Everything stable at work?” he asked, getting up as Missy padded over to Q, purring even as Q got a hand around her middle and gently pulled her out.

“Yes, thank goodness. Turns out one of the newcomers left something explosive out on the counter in the labs. R needed a piece of equipment that I locked away to keep you double-ohs from getting it,” Q said, frowning as he picked a few needles out of Missy’s fur. He ignored her growls as he approached Bond and kissed him lightly. Bond smiled as he moved to kiss the dark curls, gently releasing Q a moment later as Missy growled again. “But short of a life or death emergency, R said he won’t contact me for the rest of the weekend,” Q said as he set both cat and his bag down. “I also stopped by my mother’s house to pick up a few ornaments we could use, something other than the glass ones,” he added, gesturing towards the bulging bag.

“Well, you’re here now, so we can get the lights up,” Bond said, raising an eyebrow when Q perked up in interest.

“Let me tweak the multi-colored lights first, I meant to do that this morning, but got called in before I could,” Q asked, pulling his scarf off before reaching for his bag.

Bond shook his head with an amused smile as he walked over to the windowsill and handed over the light boxes. “I’d ask if you want tea, but I suspect that you’ve already had plenty today,” he said as he walked to the kitchenette, pulling down two mugs from a shelf. He opened the cupboard and pulled down Q’s favorite box of Earl Grey as he heard a familiar sound of irritation in the other room.

“You can never have too much tea in one day, James. I thought you’d know that by now, you practically live with me,” Q said, grinning as he disappeared down the hall. Bond prepared the coffeemaker before settling the kettle to boil, tilting his head when he heard a faint _thump_ down the hall. “Do you need help?” he shouted without looking away from his work.

“Nope, got what I wanted,” Q said as he returned with a large white sheet, Bond looking up to recognize one of the work-cloths that Q only brought out when handling delicate circuitry or working on gadgets at home instead of in Q-Branch. Spreading the cloth out on the coffee table, Q nudged Missy away with a foot when she came close to rub against his trousers. “What did she do that caused the mess?”

“Climbed up the tree, we really need to find a deterrent that isn’t a scratching post,” Bond said, remembering that Missy had helped determine the tree’s location when they brought it home yesterday. He and Q had set it by the front door, near an outlet and away from the path leading into the flat, but Missy nearly knocked it over (and onto Bond no less) in her enthusiasm to escape, ruling out the option. Bond then set the tree up near the window while Q chased Missy down the hall towards the lifts, trying not to laugh as Q cursed the cat out in frustration when she slipped through his fingers.

“I think I got a deterrent, I picked it up at Q-Branch today when R said it needed testing. It’s a prototype, so it’s not lethal or anything. Then again, the final product isn’t lethal either,” Q said, nodding towards the bag again as he pulled his laptop out of the drawer in the coffee table before reaching for the box of lights. Bond couldn’t help the twinge of unease in his gut at the mention of unknown Q-Branch tech in the flat, even if it was just a prototype, but shrugged it aside in favor of trusting Q’s common sense and their mutual wariness of Mr. Hadley, and that he wouldn’t do anything to anger the man.

The kettle whistled, and Bond prepared the tea with practice ease, listening to Missy clawing her way back onto the couch as he reached for the coffee. “What exactly is it that you’re doing to the lights?” he asked, glancing briefly over his shoulder before placing the tea bag into Q’s mug and bringing both into the living room. He sat down on the opposite end of the couch from Missy, setting Q’s mug down where the other man could see it without it being too close to Q’s work. Q meanwhile had settled in between the sofa and the coffee table, frowning at the laptop display before pressing a few commands.

“Reprogramming the blinking frequency of the lights to something other than the standard pattern, I had to ask R about that since I hadn’t attempted something like it in years,” Q said as he lay out both strands of lights, plugging one end into the socket before pulling on thin rubber work gloves. He stretched the strand out across the table, letting the excess spill over the side.

“Do I want to know how last time went?” Bond asked, only half-joking as he moved to stretch out across the sofa, mindful of the proximity of his feet near Missy.

Q was silent for a moment before he turned to face Bond. “Perhaps not,” he said, wearing the familiar innocent expression that Bond recognized as the one he wore when trying to negotiate a bigger budget with M. “And the last time I tried it, it wasn’t quite on a small scale like a tree,” he said, laughing when Bond leaned forward to kiss his nose.

“Can I get that in writing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow before relaxing back in his spot.

“Ha, bloody ha. Don’t quit your day job until you can be paid for being a smart arse,” Q said, head bowed as he returned to his work, unscrewing one of the lights. “Although, knowing you, you’d still excel at that,” he said after a moment, shrugging with a shoulder. “Where’s my tea?”

“To your right, behind the laptop,” Bond warned, glancing over to make sure that Q didn’t knock it off the table in his haste to reach it. He studied the laptop display for a few moments as Q took a sip, and then leaned forward to look past Q’s shoulder. “What exactly are you doing now?” he whispered, kissing Q’s temple gently before resting his chin on Q’s shoulder as Q pulled out a few tools and laid them out on the table.

“Trying to get a reading on the electrical impulses that cause the blinking effect in the strands. I also can’t talk for this next part, I don’t think you want me to get electrocuted,” Q said, resting his head on Bond’s for a few seconds before he straightened in his seat, rolling back his shoulders as Bond moved back to rest on the arm of the sofa.

He was about to stretch out when he belatedly remembered Missy nesting on a few pillows on the other end, and kept his feet to the middle of the sofa. He only paused when he saw that Missy focused intently on the strand that fell off the table, her head twitching each time Q jerked the strand to have a little more or less slack on the table. Where Bond saw an electrical hazard, Missy saw a toy.

Bond wasn’t entirely sure that a cat could get electrocuted from playing with light strands, especially one that a person was already working on, but he _did_ know for sure that Q would be devastated if something happened to Missy. _The things I do for him sometimes,_ he thought, suppressing a sigh as he gingerly stuck out a sock-covered foot to prod Missy’s rear.

With a hiss and growl, she turned around to face him with her tail instantly puffed up again, baring her teeth as she growled. Bond stared at her until she backed up against the armrest with a soft hiss and tensed muscles, tail flicking as she maintained eye contact. “Q, you might want to consider moving that strand dangling over the table before Missy assumes that it’s all right to play with it while you’re working,” he said, using a foot to block Missy when Q silently leaned over and moved the strand around the table.

“Thank you for pointing that out, I didn’t even see that,” Q said without looking away from the decimated light socket; Bond could see him clipping a wire to an exposed filament and then clipped it to another device, which itself looked like something Q or another tech had hobbled together with spare parts from the labs. On Q’s laptop screen, the frequency waves remained steady when Q tapped the wires to the filament, and altered their shape when Q kept the two separate. The waves altered their shape again when Q tapped fingers against the table, but remained steady when he pressed a few commands on the laptop. _Damn_ it, not again…” Q muttered under his breath as he leaned over the socket. “They make it look so easy online…”

“Do you want to call a professional?” Bond suggested as he reached behind himself for the paperback he knew was on the side table next to the couch. He glanced at the first aid kit in the kitchen, silently reassuring himself that it was still there before he opened his book.

“No, no, I’m almost done,” Q said, slipping on his earbuds before plugging them into the laptop.

Used to the extended periods of silence when Q was working, Bond merely shrugged to himself before going back to his book, listening as Q muttered to himself and Missy padded around somewhere in the kitchen. He tried not to smile when Q occasionally cursed under his breath at the tech or the developer, deciding _not_ to point out that half the tech he swore at had been one of _his_ developments. Bond had just reached the last part of his book when sharp movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to tense, expecting a fight. “ _Finally_ , I think it works now. If not, I’ll work on frequency calibrations tonight,” Q said, oddly cheerful despite the implied threat towards the lights. Bond quietly relaxed in his seat as Q unplugged the strands from the outlet, wrapping them around his arm before reaching for the apparatus. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll take it into the labs to see what’s going on with it,” he said grimly as he carefully carried his apparatus and lights and set both on the bookshelf, well out of Missy’s reach. “Ready to get started?” he asked, glancing at Bond as he stuck a small piece of yellow tape on the light socket he’d experimented with before glancing at the tree.

Bond sincerely hoped that whatever modifications Q put on the lights worked. And didn’t explode.

Q reached for the white steady lights first, opening the first box as Bond pulled out the small stepladder out where he’d left it the night before when trying to stabilize the tree. Christmas music began to pipe through the flat after Q pressed a few commands on his laptop, the quartermaster humming along to the music while untangling the strand of lights and handing it off to Bond. “Where’s the outlet that we’re using?” Bond asked, checking around the tree until Q pointed to a spot where the branches met the wall. “Thanks, we’ll have to make sure it ends there,” he said before stepping onto the ladder to rest the first bulbs down before beginning to wind them around the tree, switching off with Q every time the strand went to the other side of the tree.

He let Q dictate the spaces between strands, watching Q through the tree branches when he was sure that the other wasn’t looking. Q paused at one point to study where the strand had tangled with the branches, careful not to knock needles to the ground as he carefully followed the strand in order to pull it free. He blinked and shook some dark hair out of his eyes at one point, leaving Bond to duck in order to avoid being caught. He focused on the music to distract himself before Q could catch him with a smile, humming along with the music under his breath as he climbed down the ladder, and then knelt to reach the lower branches, his fingers occasionally brushing Q’s. He only stopped when he realized that Q was watching him with a soft smile of his own. “Is something wrong?” he asked, brow furrowing as he looked back up into the tree, wondering if he’d missed a cracked bulb or something else that needed attention, and Q was only waiting for him to catch on.

“Nothing, it’s just I’ve never heard you sing before,” Q admitted, his cheeks turning a faint pink when Bond raised an eyebrow. “It’s nice, I just thought you should know that,” he said, shrugging a shoulder as he toyed with one of the nearby branches in his fingers.

“Oh…thank you. I hadn’t noticed I was doing it, I haven’t done that sort of thing in years,” Bond admitted, turning his attention back to the branches when he found himself at an abrupt loss for words to continue speaking. “Your turn,” he prompted after a moment, offering the rest of the strand to Q.

Once they finished, Q plugged in the lights and they both stepped back to admire the effect. “I think that particular socket is attached to a light switch, so we don’t have to worry about crawling under the tree every time we want to turn the lights off before leaving the flat or going to bed,” he said before walking behind Bond towards the hall. “If you give me a moment, I can get a splitter so that we can attach the multi-colored lights as well,” he explained over his shoulder.

“All right, I get started with the multi-colored ones then,” Bond said, picking up the second strand and locating the yellow-taped light. “What do you want me to do with the yellow-taped one?” he called down the hall.

“Put it near the windowsill!”

Shaking his head with an amused smile, he used a twist tie from the kitchen to attach the light to the preferred tree branch and then let the lower part of the strand dangle as he carefully wound the upper half back around the top of the tree, pausing only when he felt something brush his legs. “Missy, something devastatingly _bad_ is going to happen if you play with these lights, or the ornaments for that matter,” he warned, looking down at the calico as she snuck her way underneath the tree, and then he scowled when he heard a familiar lapping sound. _“Missy!_ ” he whispered harshly, ignoring the hiss underneath the tree as she moved to the other side of the stand. _If Q doesn’t do something about that, I will_ , he thought grimly, careful not to voice the thought aloud as he finished the top half.

_Click!_

“Going to make a camera ornament?” Bond asked, turning in time to see Q setting his mobile down before reaching for the neglected mug of Earl Grey.

“Why not? It would make a good security system, rigged to take a discreet photo once the motion sensors trigger the camera,” Q said, looking thoughtfully back at his mobile as he sipped his tea.

“Just as long as it doesn’t try to deal with said intruders,” Bond said as he carefully wound the strand around the twist tied light. “Come on, last strand,” he said, holding the lights out for Q, who set his mug down and joined him. “I’m interested to see what you did to the lights,” he said, watching as Q smirked before pressing his lips together.

“Got inspired by some house decorations from the States, and some from around here,” Q said, grinning as he finally knelt to plug the lights in. Bond was somewhat surprised to find that they remained steady, but Q did not seem alarmed, instead delighted as he ducked past Bond for the apparatus on the shelf. “I changed the frequency of the lights so that they remain steady when there’s no music playing,” he explained as he attached one end of the apparatus to the modified light before setting his iPod on the windowsill. Placing the headphone jack into the iPod, he pressed a button before moving back to stand with Bond.

_“Deck the halls with boughs of holly—”_

As Bond watched in amazement, the lights blinked in time with the rhythm of the song, different sections flashing in time with the dips and ascents of the tune. “Wow, Q, that… that is amazing,” he admitted, glancing down at the other man.

“It _worked_!” Q said, laughing before he turned and pulled Bond down for a kiss.

Bond grinned when they parted, watching as the next song started playing before holding Q close with an arm wrapped around his waist.


	4. Chapter 4

“How did the system’s first field tests go?”

“Well, unless you’re hoping to modify the entire damn thing to be a silent alarm, the first field tests _failed_ last night. And then the test subject flaunted our failure in my face,” Q said grimly without looking up from the scattered pieces of tech on his workstation surface, safely nestled in the depths of the labs in Q-Branch. He wasn’t the only one; a few workers who were working on miscellaneous projects, whiling away the last ten minutes until the end of the day shift, surrounded him with a peaceful murmur. Two monitors nearby, both in full view of the staff in the room, kept track of 005 and 008. “Missy only paused when the lights went off, and then went ahead to use the tree stand as a second drinking bowl. She wasn’t scared at all, just annoyed. James didn’t even realize that something happened, he was in the other room and he’s usually very good about picking that sort of thing up,” he added as he looked up at R, who frowned.

“Hm. What about adding noise to it? You’d have to be careful, at least until we adjust the motion sensors not to go off when you or Bond are trying to water the tree,” R said, leaning on the workstation as he turned the problem over. He looked up at Q a moment later and asked, “What if we got heat sensors, instead? Just for testing.”

“I’d have to program them for Missy, she’ll hate me for the next week or so,” Q said, tilting his head as he drummed his fingers against the workstation surface. If he remembered correctly, he’d left the necessary recording equipment in his study drawer, shoved there when he’d been drunk and thought he’d been in the office. “I’ll try that tonight,” he said, going back to his work.

“Let me get some alarms that we’re not using at the moment,” R offered, disappearing before Q could stop him.

Q merely watched him go before going back to his work, carefully pulling off the external casing from the small laser pointer, one of eight he’d found in a desk drawer here in the branch. He’d forgotten about the stash in his desk, an attempt to slow the rate of loss each time he used one to entertain Missy and subsequently misplaced it. Lifting the modified ornament, mindful of the components already inside the other cannon, he carefully inserted the laser pointer innards into the hollowed interior of the ship’s gun turret, making sure it was snug before setting the rubber-tipped tweezers down. He then poked bits of shredded fire-retardant foam into the empty spaces to make sure that the components wouldn’t roll around.

_Clang!_

_Right on time_. Q carefully screwed back on the cap before looking up to see James enter the labs, blue eyes flickering across the technicians before settling on the four Star Wars and Star Trek ornaments sitting on the table in front of Q. “And here I thought you were ensuring England’s safety, not the destruction of the flat,” he said, frowning slightly as he reached for one of the empty laser pointer casings.

“Well, England’s safety is now in the very capable hands of R, the night staff, and double-ohs five and eight for the night,” Q said, giving James an amused smile as he picked the ornaments up and placed them back into their padded boxes. He slipped the boxes into his bag right as R returned, discreetly passing over a few small sensors and thumbnail sized alarms when James looked up at the two monitors. “And you’ll let me know if double-oh five needs assistance?” he asked quietly, and R glanced uneasily at the monitor in question.

“He may need an extraction at the rate he’s going, but it’s too soon to tell at the moment. I’ll call if it gets to that point,” he said, turning back to Q, who nodded.

“Don’t hesitate for anything else either,” Q said before shooing James out of the way so he could reach his coat. “And _you,_ ” he said, directing his next remark to James, who arched a brow as he leaned against the desk. “Don’t let me forget about the laser pointers in the ornaments, those can be the difference between life and death for the furniture when Missy gets restless and the scratching posts have gone to hell again,” he said, pulling on his coat before he reached for his bag, gingerly picking it up before he stared heading towards the door.

“Unless you’re worried about the furniture suffocating underneath all that shed fur, I’d say your furniture is pretty safe from that cat,” James remarked as he followed Q out of the branch. “What’s the situation with Martin? He went to…Athens, after that arms dealer, right?” James asked, turning back briefly to snatch another glance at the monitor even as he fell in step beside Q. He could easily detect the note of concern in the agent’s voice, but tried not to think about it himself.

“Istanbul, and yes, an underground arms dealer,” Q said, bypassing the lift for the door that led straight to the garage as he squared his shoulders, still recalling R’s assessment for a potential solution. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he added, “The main problem is that there’s a high level of ambiguity as to whether the dealer knows he’s an assassin, and we’ve decided to proceed as though he does, but I worry we may actually give away the game anyway if we’re not careful,” he admitted, glancing at James, who frowned. “He wasn’t being monitored until last night, when I thought it was for the best that we just keep an eye on him due to the delicate nature of the situation,” he explained, leaning over to swipe James’s gloves from his coat pocket— _right pocket, where he always puts them—_ and pulled them on as James pushed open and held the door to the garage for him. “Thank you…” he began, voice trailing off when he found that the gloves fit him perfectly for the first time.

“You’re welcome,” James said, smirking slightly as he walked past Q, nudging him with an elbow to the small of his back. He pulled his own gloves on before unlocking the car, and Q was about to get in when his phone chirped yet again. “Mother again?” James asked as he guided them to the Aston Martin that Tess had left behind for them. He let out a grunt as he slid into the seat, and muttered, “Tess changed the seat adjustments, I am never sharing this car again…”

“I asked Mum to let me know when she got to Bordeaux, she was going to travel with Aunt Mara,” Q said, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes as he checked his phone. He smiled softly as he studied the picture message, an impromptu family portrait, before tucking the mobile away. “She thinks I’m an overworked and underpaid IT chief, and that I lied to her to get out of going with her this year so that I can get more work done.”

“Even I can’t argue with her on that last part, you’re going in again tomorrow, aren’t you?” James said, pointedly looking back at the building entrance as he maneuvered his way out of the garage. “I assume that she made it to Bordeaux all right?”

“Yes, even sent a family photo as proof. Uncle César must have taken it, he was the only person I didn’t see,” Q said, pulling the mobile out again to study the image. “Think we should send one back, help someone win the inevitable betting pool?” he asked, glancing at James, who shrugged.

“I don’t see why not. Do you know who has what odds?” James asked, keeping his attention on the road. He didn’t move until he was at the stoplights right after Vauxhall Bridge, leaning over to rest his head against Q’s and tucking his right shoulder under Q’s own.

“No, but the prize money can be our Christmas gift to the winner,” Q replied as he held the mobile up, adjusting his position so that both he and James were comfortable. He managed to somehow snap the photograph seconds before he felt James’s fingers, which were already resting at his waist at the time of the photo, abruptly dropped further down and slipped underneath his jacket, cardigan and shirt, dancing across his ribs. “James!” Q yelped, jerking away in surprise even as the agent laughed and accelerated the car. “James, you are impossible sometimes,” he complained without conviction as James turned onto his street and towards his building.

“I prefer the term ‘challenge’ personally, there’s always a chance of success at the end,” James replied as he turned the car into its slot, squeezing Q’s arm before turning the engine off and getting out. Q joined him in front, leaning on him as they walked into the building and towards the lifts. Q tucked his arm through the crook of James's elbow, aware that he was comforted with this familiar intimacy, that he could imagine a more permanent relationship with James. He dared not mention it aloud though; he did not know what James wanted yet, and didn’t want to pressure him. Instead, Q focused on sending the picture, attaching a note— _Merry Christmas from London!_ —at the last minute and then tucked the mobile away in his pocket, resting a hand on his bag to keep it from knocking him into James. “Who do you think will win the betting pool?” James asked after a few moments, pressing the button for Q’s floor in the lift.

“Aunt Mara,” Q replied without hesitation. “It was her husband who took the photo and Mum rarely lets anyone other than her sisters take her picture. That and I learned a long time ago not to bet against Aunt Mara, I was a low-level technician at the time and lost quite a bit of money that year. Swore never to gamble blind again,” he said, leaning against the wall as he shrugged a shoulder.

“Is that why you refused to play poker when Alec asked you around this time last year?” James asked, arching a brow as Q squirmed under his steady gaze. “The invitation is still available, by the way, if you’re feeling more confident about taking on at least five other players,” he said, no doubt catching the twitch of amusement from Q’s mouth.

“That and I had this thing called ‘common sense’ that told me that the game would end badly for my wallet and me if I decided to partake in such activities,” Q said loftily, ducking underneath James’s feigned swipe as the lift doors opened. “Five double-ohs, James? I may be inventive in Q-Branch, but I’m not stupid. If I’m placing my bets on Aunt Mara, who are you choosing?” he asked, walking backwards briefly towards his flat to maintain eye contact with James.

“Your mother. Winner gets to decide where Missy sleeps tonight,” James said, quickly reaching out to slide a hand between Q’s shoulder and the wall seconds before Q bumped into the wall. “Face forward, I don’t want to explain to M why you ended up in the hospital when I was with you at the time of the accident.”

“Fine. Oh, and if no one wins, we leave Missy alone to do as she pleases. That includes you leaving the bedroom door open for her,” Q said as he turned around long enough to unlock the flat door. He frowned when he only heard silence in the flat even as he stuck a foot in the crack to prevent another escape attempt. “Missy?” he called carefully, trying to squash the unexpected anxiety that came with a missing cat. He wedged his body through the crack in case she lurked nearby, but the anxiety twisted into concern when he didn’t see or hear her anywhere in the immediate vicinity of the flat. “ _Missy!”_

“She’s fine, jumped on the bloody tree again,” James said gruffly, closing the door behind Q before he pulled his coat and shoes off.

Confused, Q scanned the tree, starting with the lower branches before he finally looked up near the top, sighing when he spotted her. Missy clung to the upper branches as best she could, claws half-buried the trunk as she mewled in despair and tried to adjust her hugging position only to nearly slip. Q silently counted it as a miracle that none of the glass ornaments had fallen yet even though her back paws threatened to knock a few off. He set his bag down and walked over to the tree, ignoring James as he made a soft chirping sound to catch her attention. “Come here girl, just ignore the big mean predator behind me, he’s okay, just don’t knock anything over and everything will be okay,” he said, gingerly reaching to grasp her middle.

Missy tensed before abruptly releasing the tree and twisting around to land on his shoulder, body curling protectively as she rested her head on his shoulder and curled a paw around his neck. Q nearly stumbled back, oddly unprepared for her weight despite having done this many times before, but rubbed her back as he carried her away from the tree. “All right Missy, I need your cooperation for a few minutes, but I promise to be quick,” he said, rubbing her back as he carried her to his study. “Tuna after, I promise.”

She merely bumped her nose against his jaw, but remained obediently still as he shifted her into his left arm so that he could use his right to open the desk drawer in his study. He bent forward to rummage through the contents, careful with balancing Missy’s weight against his body before he found the small scanner. “It’s just a scan,” he grumbled when he felt her suddenly try to wiggle and climb over his shoulder, his own arm tightening to keep her still for a few more minutes. He grimaced when a full set of claws sank into his shirt and grazed his skin, but he waved the scanner over her for a few moments before finally releasing her. He had to brace himself so she could jump off his shoulder, landing on the floor with an audible _thump_. He opened his laptop and connected the scanner, allowing the laptop to begin downloading and recording the data.

James had moved his bag to the floor when he returned, and the agent had taken over the sofa again. “Any reply from your family yet?” he asked as Q knelt down in front of his bag to collect the ornament boxes.

“No, but it’s likely Mum hasn’t checked her phone yet,” Q said, carrying the boxes to the windowsill and opening each one before taking the first out of its packaging. He moved around the tree, seeking a light socket that was close to a branch before hanging the ornament near the top. With another small, rubber-tipped tool, he unscrewed the light and carefully attached the modified clip to the socket. “Youtube made this look easy,” he grumbled under his breath after a moment, quickly retracting his hand as a few sparks of electricity flew from the point of contact. _Wrong wire_. “I’m starting to think that all those ‘how to’ videos were staged.”

“You don’t necessarily _have_ to do whatever it is that you’re doing,” James pointed out, stretching across the sofa with his book as Q studied the surrounding branches for any sign of an impending fire. Finding none, he finished attaching the ornament to the tree before moving back to the windowsill for the other three.

“I know, but this is fun,” Q said, humming to himself as he continued attaching the other three ornaments, careful to put the ornaments mid-level or on the lower branches of the tree. Then he took small squares of paper he’d cut earlier and bent them forward and down, taping them in place above the hollowed tips of the gun turrets. Glancing uneasily at James, Q checked that the fire extinguisher lay in reach before finally walking around the tree to turn the strands on, the music piping through the speakers a few seconds later. Then he turned to quickly check to see where the dots fell.

It took him a few seconds to spot the red dots scattered about on the floor, blinking in time with the multi-colored lights and music. Missy, who had finally reappeared in the doorway, fell still on the threshold and stared at the nearest dots, head twitching each time it disappeared. _Good, it will keep her busy until I get the real defense system up and running,_ Q thought as he moved around the room, standing behind the sofa to make sure that the laser pointers couldn’t shine into someone’s eyes by accident. James paid him little attention as he moved around to kneel at James’s eye level to make sure that the laser pointers were shielded at the lower angle. Grinning, Q then leaned forward to kiss James on the cheek, letting out a soft squeak of surprise when the agent turned and met him for a full kiss. Q sat down on the floor then, leaning back against James’s shoulder as he silently counted each red dot that he could see. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—_

_Wait, where’s the eighth one?_

Frowning, Q glanced at Missy to find that she was now stalking a dot, the eighth one, he realized. He followed her line of sight to the sofa, spotting the dot near—

“James?”

“Mm?” James turned the page of his book, but didn’t look up.

“You might want to move your feet now.”

To his credit, James didn’t ask, just calmly moved his feet the second Missy lunged for the eighth laser pointer dot on the backrest of the sofa. Q grimaced when she landed with claws fully extended, the fabric stretching as she climbed up the rest of the way with a half-hearted yowl.

“I still think she’s possessed,” James said as he sat up, setting the book aside as Q’s mobile buzzed in his pocket.

“Lies and slander, my staff say nothing else about her,” Q said as he pulled his mobile out to examine the message, his mouth dropping open a second later. “Mum just won the fifteen hundred quid jackpot. How the _hell_ —”

“Then it looks like Missy won’t be in the bedroom tonight,” James said, grinning as he leaned forward to kiss Q on the forehead. “And you’re right, you’re probably not ready to play poker against the rest of us,” he said with a smirk before getting up from the sofa, careful to give Missy a wide berth as she continued to stalk another dot from the top of the sofa.

Q scowled, flipping James off behind his back before moving out of Missy’s next line of attack.


	5. Chapter 5

Q was noticeably quieter the next day when he returned home from work.

“Everything all right?” Bond asked, careful to keep his tone light as he muted the television before turning to face Q, who locked the door behind himself, pausing long enough to scratch between Missy’s ears. When Q didn’t immediately reply, Bond slowly stood up and walked over as Q tried to summon a passable smile. “Q, what happened?” he asked quietly as Q hung up his coat, visibly breathing deep breaths as though to calm himself. Bond couldn’t think of anything that he might have done that day, which left one potential response. “Did double-oh five need extraction?” he asked, catching Q and rubbing the man’s shoulders.

“No, we left his extraction time to his discretion,” Q said, tugging himself free long enough to turn around and offer Bond access to his back. “He escaped, but in a truly spectacular explosive fashion, he could give you a run for your money if we were taking bets,” he said as Bond began working on the knots in his shoulders, head drooping forward a moment later when Bond found a particular bad knot. “Can I take my shoes off before you continue this?”

“Of course.” Bond kept his hands loosely on Q’s waist as the latter turned around, using him as a balance to pull his shoes off with his feet. Bond refrained from a chuckle when Q nearly tripped forward onto him, but held him steady to allow Q to finally push his shoes off to the side. “How much of the city survived after double-oh five escaped?” he asked, interested despite himself as he gently unwound Q’s scarf, kissing the tip of Q’s nose before reaching over Q to hang the scarf on its hook.

“That’s where he did better than you. He kept the blast contained to the building alone and also managed to eliminate his target,” Q said, tapping a finger against Bond’s chest even though a smile twitched at his features. “Speaking of explosions, the flat’s still standing and I didn’t get any calls. What did you do all day?” he asked, grinning even as Bond tugged him closer to the sofa.

“Swept the flat and located three of the hidden weapons you have here, as you suggested I do before you left this morning,” Bond said, ignoring Q’s scowl and easily blocked the half-hearted swipe in his direction. “You need to keep one closer to the sofa, maybe put a false bottom in the coffee table,” he said, displaying open palms to indicate that he hadn’t removed any of the weapons in question. “I assume that the recorded dog barks were to keep Missy away from the hiding places?”

“Well, it works so far and I switch out the motion sensors when they need testing,” Q said, pushing on Bond’s shoulder. “I need tea. I also had to prepare Q-Branch for me to be gone for five days, and it was a hell of a lot more stressful than I thought it would be. Then Mum called during my lunch break and asked if we could come down this weekend to visit and I told her no,” he said, throwing his weight against Bond’s side when the agent stubbornly refused to move. “ _James_ …”

“What do you say?” Bond asked, grinning when Q scowled.

“ _Now_.”

“You’re lucky I love you, brat,” Bond said fondly, the words slipping out before he could think. He didn’t retract them, instead leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Q’s forehead before standing up and walking to the kitchenette. The words swirled around in his mind, and he slowly exhaled, reviewing the last few days before turning his mind to the last few months. Their ‘one-year’ was coming up towards the end of January, also marking the fact that this was the longest relationship Bond had managed to maintain despite the nature of his work overseas. _But I mean them this time,_ he realized as he began setting the kettle out and turning the heat up for the water. _Unable to stay, for fear of harming him, yet unwilling to leave_.

“We could prank and surprise your family, you know,” he said, brushing over the momentary silence between them with words. “You supply the address, I’ll get us inside, and we hope that no one knows how to use a gun,” he added, glancing at Missy, who lurked near the nearest set of laser pointer dots. She’d been so worn out the night before from constantly chasing them that she’d actually left the closed bedroom door alone, so Bond didn’t have any sawdust from clawed wood to clean up that morning. “I’m sure your mother misses the cat too.”

“James, it’s a nightmare just trying to get her across London for the vet,” Q warned him in a light tone as he walked over to the small counter separating the kitchenette from the living room. Bond turned, easily meeting him for a light kiss before Q added, “Besides, if you expect to stay here long term, you _have_ to get along with her, we’re a packaged deal.” He winked before picking up a half-finished box of glass ornaments, leaving Bond with a moment of confusion as he registered Q’s words. “And while we’re on the topic of who in my family knows how to use a gun, that would be Mara, my grandfather, and one of my cousins. If there’s one thing I don’t want to explain to M, it would be why there was a brief stand-off in France.”

“M wouldn’t be surprised. His predecessor would have left me to whatever fate that I ended up with,” Bond said, leaving the tea to steep as he walked over to Q and reached over him to gently pluck the box from his hands. He stepped around Q, intending to get a better angle, when Q abruptly reached out and caught his thigh. “Wha—” he began, but stopped when he spotted Q’s laptop on the ground near his foot. He saw that the current open program had a fluctuating line, and then he turned to Q with an arched brow. “Dare I ask what you are doing with your laptop near the tree?” he asked, watching as Q shrugged with one shoulder.

“Calibrating something in an effort to protect the tree from Missy. Got the idea from R, but it needed a little fine-tuning,” Q said, kneeling down and waving a hand underneath the lower branches. “Although I think it’s done now, I’ve had it running all day. We just need to wait for Missy to wander down there before we can do anything else to it,” he added, Bond turning around in time to see Missy trying to catch the dot on the sofa.

“I could toss her under, if you wanted to test whatever it is that the device does,” Bond suggested, checking his sleeves before placing the box onto the nearby counter. Missy still had her back to him, her tail swishing lazily as she stalked another laser pointer dot. _Three strides, hands around her middle, arms stretched out to full length to keep her away from chest…_

“James, I suspect that she’s not going to like the device as it is. It’s going to startle her, but hopefully she’ll stay away from the tree afterwards,” Q said, poking Bond in the ribs before nodding to the kitchenette. “I believe you owe me tea.”

“Spoiled,” Bond remarked, feigning a swat to Q’s rear as he turned to walk away.

Q squawked at the movement, twisting out of Bond’s reach. “Did you actually mean to get me or did you fake it?” he said, twisting around to check his back. He looked up in time right as Bond looked away, fighting back his own smile. “You—I—if anyone is spoiled here, it’s _you_ because I always give you the prototypes even when I _know_ you’re going to either return them to me in pieces or not at all,” he said, and Bond grinned when he heard Q move to give chase.

“Am I still spoiled too, for every minute that I steal out of your workday when I sneak into your office?” Bond asked, easily catching Q by the forearms and spinning him around with Q’s forward momentum. He caught Q—and himself—by surprise by dipping Q, careful to keep Q’s head from banging into the small wall underneath the counter. “Because I hardly _ever_ hear you complain about my visits to your office, professional or otherwise,” he whispered into Q’s ear, gently nosing through the familiar dark curls. He smiled when he felt Q’s frame shudder in his hands before Q turned to kiss him, hands curling in his shirt as he leaned his head back to give Bond better access to his neck.

“Those don’t count,” he said after a moment as Bond slowly straightened the two of them again, holding Q close. “Those minutes don’t count as stolen because your visits, even the unexpected ones, that is what I look forward to every day that I know you’re home and well,” he admitted, cheeks flushing slightly at the confession. “Whether you’re there for five minutes or I have to throw you out after several hours so you can stop being such a bloody distraction, I still like it very much when you come to visit…even if I do have to maintain appearances of professionalism in front of M,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Bond’s even as he looked down at the ground.

Bond frowned, biting back the knee-jerk quip as he tilted his head slightly in an attempt to see Q better, his humor fading into concern when Q studiously avoided his gaze yet clung tighter when Bond tried to step back and get a better look at him. “Q, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he asked quietly, still trying to make eye contact with Q. He tried to review the last few minutes in his head, trying to think of what he said that could have prompted the turn in Q’s mood.

“I—” Whatever Q had been about to say, he changed his mind and turned instead to wrap his arms around Bond’s neck, pulling him closer for another kiss. Bond groaned before allowing his hands to slide down Q’s clothed body, dancing around the hem of Q’s cardigan before slipping to that of his work shirt. _Don’t push him, he’ll talk if he wants to,_ Bond reminded himself, still a bit uneasy even as he allowed Q to push him back towards the sofa, hands firm against familiar warm skin. He barely registered the scrabbling of claws against fabric as Missy jumped off the sofa and scuttled underneath right as Q pushed him back down onto the sofa. Bond grinned when he felt Q’s fingers plucking at the hem of the sweatshirt he’d chosen for the day, and obeyed when he heard Q’s growl of frustration, pulling the offending garment off before tossing it aside as Q leaned forward for another kiss, straddling him now.

“Q…” he began, managing to break free even as he caught Q’s hands, inhaling sharply at the muted strength. “Q, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Shh, not now,” Q whispered back before skimming his nose down the length of Bond’s neck before gently biting the skin. Bond obeyed, allowing Q to take charge of their pace as he closed his eyes and lost himself to the sensations.

_DWEET! DWEET!_

Bond didn’t think, just  _moved_ with adrenaline surging in his veins as their tiny living room flooded in harsh, glowing red light and blaring alarms. He wrapped an arm tightly around Q’s waist, flipping the two of them over on the sofa so that Q was pinned safely underneath and out of harm’s way. He dimly heard Missy yowling as she tore away from whichever corner of the room she’d been hiding in as he grappled for his Walther— _why the fuck did I have to return it?_ —while he ignored Q squirming underneath him as though trying to wiggle free. “Fucking  _cat_ ,” Bond swore when he felt a full set of claws sink into his skin before dragging across his back as Missy scrambled onto him, the back of the sofa, and then a  _thump_ as she landed on the floor, running for the bedroom. Bond thought he heard another _thump_ as she collided with the bedroom door, but turned his focus to the imminent threat.

He only stopped moving when he looked up to see that the tree had returned to its normal multi-colored lights blinking in tune with the soft music from the laptop. He grunted when Q finally shoved him aside, and then twisted to peer down at the disheveled younger man. “What the hell was  _that_?” he demanded even as Q studied the tree in front of them.

“ _That_ , was the reason for the calibrations I mentioned earlier, and the deterrent that I mentioned acquiring from Q-Branch on Sunday,” Q said, adjusting his glasses as he grinned almost to himself. Standing up, he walked over to the tree and lay down on the floor to better wiggle underneath it. “We needed a foolproof way to keep Missy out, and Q-Branch needed a way of testing proximity alarms for the safehouses here in London before we expanded that to those in Europe,” Q said, frowning as he tweaked something on the lower branches before pulled out a thin gray wire. “See this?”

“Yes,” Bond said, kneeling down beside Q.

“This is the alarm system, it’s triggered by tiny motion sensors as seen here,” Q said, twisting the wire around so that Bond could see the row of tiny dots. “All I did was wind it around the strand of lights, and then the rest took care of itself. It’s really supposed to be discreet, but Missy wasn’t scared of the lights, so I had to adjust it to sound as well. It’s programmed to her heat signature only, so you and I can still get under there without a problem,” he said, carefully tucking the gray wire back into its place. He then slid out from underneath the tree, extending his arms with an arched brow, gazing pointedly at Bond. “I did warn you about this on Sunday.”

Bond snorted as he stood up again, reaching over and clasping Q’s hands in his. “That hardly counted as a warning, you’d be more specific if you were warning me about visitors while I was here or as a reason for me to back off for the day,” he said as he pulled Q to his feet, steadying him by resting his hands on Q’s waist.

“Unless it was family, then I would tell you a week in advance and let you decide,” Q said, wiggling free before taking a step back. “House rule number one then is alert the other of possible visitors, and be specific about the person’s identity,” he said, grinning as Bond reached forward and tugged him closer.

“No tech, or weapons, in the flat either unless the other has been notified ahead of time,” he said, arching a brow when Q scowled. “Q, I would have shot that tree if I had been armed, I thought we were under attack and that the lights were a part of _your_ flat’s security system,” he added as he felt Q slide his hands into Bond’s jean pockets. He refused to be distracted even as Q flattened his hands within the pockets.

“Fine. Only the authorized five guns are permitted in the flat without prior warning, but I will let you know whenever I drag a Q-Branch experiment in here,” Q said, grinning before he let Bond pull him into an embrace, resting his forehead against Bond’s chest.

Bond just rubbed his back, still remembering the earlier moment before Q tried to brush it aside. “Sounds fair enough,” he said after a moment, kissing the top of Q’s head. He drew Q closer to his body, silently enjoying the familiar warmth against his own as he rested his forehead in Q’s curls. He’d been careful, over the last few months, to monitor what he brought and left at the flat, trying not to encroach on Q’s space. He had experienced the temptation to simply make himself at home over the last few months, but he resisted this time, not wanting to push Q away by accident.

With one last kiss, he stepped back and gently pried Q’s hands out of his pockets. Holding them tight, he made eye contact with Q and asked, “Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” Q said with note of wariness in his eye, but his tone remained light.

“Do you want to talk about what was bothering you earlier?” Bond gently pressed, watching Q’s face carefully.

“No…I’m not ready to discuss it right now. But I promise it’s nothing bad to do with you,” Q said, stealing one final kiss before releasing his hands and moving out of Bond’s reach. “Now come on, there are a few ornaments left and we still have to figure out dinner for Christmas,” he said, reaching for the final box that Bond had left on the kitchenette counter.

Bond nodded and followed him, letting the matter lie for now.


	6. Chapter 6

_This had better not be my last chance; I’ll never hear the end of it otherwise._

Q remained flattened against the barrier with his heart pounding in his ears, his fingers tightly clutching his last defense as he bowed his head to try and catch his breath. He tilted his head slightly, straining to listen for a particular, familiar voice among the myriad of nearby people and barking dogs, but slowly exhaled when he failed to hear it. Cold air stung the inside of his nose and exposed skin as he crept along the bank, signaling to his young, eight-year old accomplice to sneak ahead for a quick surveillance trip before the two of them launched the hastily planned ‘sneak’ attack. _There is no way in hell that he doesn’t know this is coming,_ Q thought grimly as he settled back on his heels, careful to keep his head below the embankment.

When he peered over the edge, he had perhaps two seconds to react.

_FWUMP!_

“James!” he shouted as the snowball clipped the top of his head, sending him toppling backwards in a spray of snow amidst shrieks of delight from Kevin Wilson. “Now you’re asking for it,” he muttered as he gathered another snowball, careful to scoop a handful of fallen pine needles from the trees that surrounded the park and mix it into the snowball. He didn’t bother with hiding this time; Kevin had already left the safety of the snow trench to chase his twin brother, who was with James. Q stood up, brushing what snow he could out of his hair with one hand as he spotted James attempting to ‘flee’, Adam Wilson leading the way as Kevin chased the two of them. Q took a step back, lining up the shot as best he could with wet glasses before throwing it.

_Smack!_

“Run!” Kevin screamed when snow exploded across James’s upper back, but continued running towards James and Adam anyway. He let out a shriek when James turned sharply around, blue eyes settling first on him before looking up at Q, who impulsively stuck his tongue out. “Run Mr. Alex!” Kevin shouted as he ‘evaded’ James, who had started running towards them. “ _Run!”_

“ _Fuck,”_ Q muttered under his breath as he began backpedaling when he realized that James wasn’t going to chase the other child. He could faintly hear the twins chanting ‘ _Get him! Get him!’_ as he fled the safety of the snowbank. Cheers erupted when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist indeterminable seconds later, his world tilting as the two of them fell while James twisted them around so that Q landed on top of him, snow flying everywhere around them. He took a few seconds to catch his breath, glasses askew and fogging with each of James’s exhales.

Then he felt James shift and fix the glasses, his grin slightly blurry through the water droplets. “Not so fearsome when up close to the enemy, are you?” he whispered, brushing a light kiss to Q’s temple before rolling to the side, neatly depositing Q onto the snow with a grunt.

“Mr. Alex, can we do that again?” Kevin asked, forcing James to remain still by clambering on top of the agent. “Same teams?”

“I’m sorry, but I promised your mother that I would have you both back in time for tea,” Q said, twisting to lie on his stomach so that he could check his watch. “Which is in less than thirty minutes,” he said, standing up and dusting snow off himself as James rolled to lie on his back again, depositing Kevin in the snow. The agent moved before Adam could pounce, standing up and pulling his gloves off to shake out the snow inside before leaning over to pull Kevin back to his feet. “Both of you, please shake what snow off that you can and make sure that you have everything,” Q instructed as he checked his mobile. Quietly satisfied that his branch was definitely capable of running itself without help, he checked the volume before stuffing the mobile back into his coat pocket. “Your mother will have my head if you track snow into your flat.”

“I do it all the time,” Adam quietly announced as he reached up for James’s hand, little fingers folding around James’s palm before the agent could get his gloves back on. Without prompting, Q took the extra glove and stuffed it into one of James’s pockets before he took Kevin’s hand.

“Then you don’t need encouragement from me,” Q said, arching a brow at an oddly guilty Adam before looking up at James. “Thank you, for going along with this. I know it’s not the activity you wanted to do today, but I couldn’t leave Mrs. Wilson like that,” he muttered, careful to keep his voice low to keep the twins from hearing them.

“I have a few suggestions if you’re interested in making it up to me,” James said, smirking before Q bumped his shoulder with his own. “I’m just more worn out than I thought I would be, given the training sessions I have to keep doing or risk getting benched again, M’s orders” the agent admitted a moment later, making a face when Adam tugged on his arm.

“You can give me your suggestions when we’re out of younger ears,” Q replied, looking pointedly at the twins before tightening his grip in warning when Kevin started to wander. “As for being worn out, imagine how the Wilsons feel about having to do this twenty-four seven. Not to mention that you had to keep an eye on _me_ along with the twins,” he added, easily recalling James’s flustered expression when Mrs. Wilson knocked on the door earlier that morning with a silent yet desperate plea in her eyes. Her husband had been called into work earlier that morning, and she still had had last minute present shopping left, something she couldn’t comprehend doing with the twins. Q had offered James a way out, once she’d left, but the agent refused, pointing out that managing a staff was different than two rambunctious twins.

“At least they’ll have an easier time of it today,” James said, glancing down at Adam, who weaved back and forth slightly next to him, stifling a yawn.

“Good. Mission accomplished,” Q said, pleased to find that Kevin, while still staring at everything he saw on the walk, had not pointed or yelled since leaving the park.

“Mission? What mission?” James asked suspiciously, arching a brow as he glanced at Q. “I wasn’t aware we were on a mission,” he said, managing to stop Adam from running towards the first intersection.

“How much chattering from the twins do you hear now in comparison to this morning?” Q asked, nodding once when James paused, glancing at the twins before narrowing his eyes at Q. “Exactly. Almost to none. Did you really think I usually enjoy having my partner shove snow down the back of my coat in an ambush?” he asked, returning his attention to the lights as he fought back a grin at the memory.

“God help us if you ever decide to cross England, we’ll never see it coming,” James said in a light tone despite the serious topic, shaking his head before nudging Adam after the walk light switched to green. “You must have been the reason why we’re all warned to look out for the quiet ones,” he said, smirking when Q resisted the urge to reflexively flip him off. As they entered the small car park for the building, both Q and James released their charges, Q trusting them enough to get to the front door in one piece and without any incident involving thrown or packed snow. A flicker of movement was his only warning, and he ducked to avoid a thrown snowball, shielding his face when James smacked it out of the air in a cold spray.

“Come on, both of you,” Q shouted as he and James approached the front door, Q fumbling with his keys before waving the magnet in front of the reader. He silently grimaced when the twins returned a few minutes later, once again covered in snow and tracking it all into the lobby with large white footprints. Q and James weren’t much better; the lack of foresight to bring a hat meant that their hair was now dripping onto the ground. Q coughed to cover a laugh when he spotted James’s hair dying in short blond spikes. _Mine’s probably not much better_ , he thought as he glanced around the lobby for the landlord, one Mr. Hadley, and then ushered the children towards the lift past a marked sign that read ‘Caution: Wet Floor’. _A few more feet and we’re free—_

_Creeeak!_

Before either Kevin or Adam could protest, Q pressed the button for the lift and turned, James moving to stand next to him and shield the twins from sight as Mr. Hadley’s door opened, the landlord limping out into the lobby as he clutched his cane in a steady grip. His eyes narrowed, and he turned to find James and Q both standing there, Q praying that the twins would remain absolutely quiet. “Mr. Hadley, good afternoon. I trust all is well?” Q asked, glancing at James in an effort not to look behind himself.

“Eh…thought I heard the Wilson brats,” Hadley said, brow furrowing as he turned back to the front door. Q saw the moment Hadley spotted the snow, the old man’s forehead creasing as he leaned on his cane. “Did you see them?” he asked, turning to Q.

“No, sir. James and I have just gotten back from an errand to our workplace,” Q lied, holding up his keys for emphasis. “Left these in my office.”

“Be more careful. Now excuse me, I need to go find those brats before they throw snowballs at me or build snowmen in front of my car again,” Hadley said, eyeing Q’s coat. “And take that off before the mess gets worse.”

“Yes, sir,” Q murmured as Hadley limped out of the building, muttering under his breath the entire time. He then released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and then turned around to face the twins, who had assumed practiced expressions of innocence. “What did he mean by ‘snowball’?”

“I threw a snowball at him. Mummy never saw it, and neither did he,” Kevin said, grinning.

“Until he got hit,” Adam chimed in, tilting his head as he looked at James. “Like we did today.”

_Ding!_

“I knew you two were troublemakers, but didn’t realize it was _this_ bad,” Q muttered under his breath as he herded the two of them onto the lift, James keeping close behind with his back to Q. “Do me a favor, and don’t encourage them in the future,” he said, absently passing his keys to James. “I’ll drop them off and you can deal with Missy.”

James scowled, but didn’t say anything. “She hates me,” he grumbled before he leaned over and kiss Q, turning to distract the twins before Q could react.

Mrs. Wilson was already out in the hall when the lift doors opened, a grocery bag propping the door open as she carried her other bags into the flat two by two. “Mum!” Kevin shrieked, catching her attention as he nearly barreled Q over in his rush, forcing Q to reach out to James for support before he fell. James narrowly avoided a similar fate when Adam got the same idea. He looked up in time to see Mrs. Wilson kneel and squeeze both her children before herding them back into the flat, making a face when she examined the water logged carpet just inside her door before noticing the large water stain on her beige skirt. “Bloody hell, not there…” she muttered just loud enough for Q to hear, as she tried to ineffectively wipe at the mark.

“I’m sorry about that,” Q said, approaching her as he passed James his key. “We just took them to the park to wear them down, the amount of snow involved was unexpected,” he said as Mrs. Wilson waved off James’s silent offer for assistance. “Other than that, everything went well,” he said, glancing at James once to acknowledge the agent’s departure to unlock Q’s flat door. He jumped at the muffled _thump,_ and turned in time to see James catch Missy around the middle, his face twisting slightly when she sank her claws into his skin.

“Don’t worry about it, thank you for doing that,” she said, smiling as he turned around to face her. “Now, I know you refused payment, but I wanted to get you something anyway. I feel horrible about leaving the twins with you and your friend at the last minute, and I know you just got a tree for the first time. Well, since moving here, that is,” she said, kneeling to dig around in one of the bags.

“Oh no, you didn’t have to,” Q said, holding his hands up even as she pressed a box to him. “Mrs. Wilson, I don’t know if I can accept this…” he began slowly, turning the box over in his hands.

“Consider it an early Christmas present then,” she said, bending over to pick up the last bag. “Happy Christmas, Alex,” she said, adding once before propping the door open with a foot so she could take the last bag.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Q asked, frowning when she managed to balance the last two bags while keeping the door open with a foot.

“Believe it or not, these bags weigh less than _they_ do,” she said, nodding pointedly into the flat, presumably to the twins. “Good afternoon, Alex.”

“Good afternoon, and thank you for the gift. Happy Christmas,” Q replied before turning back to his own flat, frowning when he saw that the door was propped open a crack. “Do _not_ tell me that she got out,” he muttered under his breath as he slipped into the flat, searching frantically around the room until he spotted James on the sofa, Missy purring in his lap with her belly available for scratches. “What the hell?” he said, closing the door behind him before pulling his scarf off.

James held up the jar of catnip for emphasis, Q’s eyes widening when he saw that it was half empty. “That’s how much it took to get her to stop clawing me, she loves this stuff,” James remarked, brushing a few catnip flakes off his shirt and onto her fur. Missy began purring, twisting around on his lap as she bumped her head against his stomach. He tilted his head as Q pulled off his jacket to hang it up despite the drips, and Q grimaced to think of the puddle he probably formed outside in the hall. “Is everything all right?” James asked after a moment, blue eyes carefully studying Q.

“Yes, she just wanted to give us this for the tree,” Q said, holding up the box and showing James the pewter tree star inside, flanked by two small birds.

“I thought turtledoves were supposed to represent peace or something. Ironic, considering what we do for a living,” James said, carefully shifting Missy onto the couch so he could get up and closely examine it. He gently took the box from Q, lips thinning for a moment before he said, “Lights will reflect well off of it, though, and you’re going to get another light show.” He pulled it out of the box and turned it over in his hand, examining it closely.

“We both help maintain the peace, though. So it’s still appropriate,” Q gently pointed out, taking the box back so that he could pull the star out. “And the ceiling could always do with a little light,” he said, grinning when James rolled his eyes before feigning a cuff. “No really,” he pressed, looking up at the ceiling. “We’ll have to think about something for next year, to get the glitter effect,” he said, already running a mental check through the leftover stockpile of discarded gadgets and other toys that his staff tinkered with in their spare time. He glanced at James, watching as a small frown flitted across the agent’s face before he set the empty box aside. _Now or never, I suppose._ “James… you will be here next year, you know that, right?” he asked quietly, catching the momentary doubt in James’s eyes.

“Yes…but…” James stopped short as he set the star aside, wrapping Q’s hands in his own. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I worry about your safety, as Alex, not Q. I can’t predict what will happen between now and then, but I want to spare you the pain if I were to die on the field or the risk of drawing my enemies’ attention to you,” he said, running a callused thumb across Q’s knuckles.

“James, if they see me as just your helpless partner, then they’ve got a hell of a surprise waiting for them,” Q said, tilting his head to sneak a kiss from the agent. “And since whether they notice me or not probably won’t make a difference as to where you live…perhaps you could move here, stay with me,” he suggested without thinking, looking down to the ground as his heart pounded in his ears. “I mean, you don’t have to accept if you don’t want to,” he said after a moment of silence, heart racing. “It’s an offer, you can refuse…”

James remained silent even as Q forced himself to shut up. Q wondered if James was contemplating the shift in their relationship that would result from the move, a depth that had the potential to frighten the agent. _I’ve got nothing to lose,_ he reasoned a moment later as he felt James shift position, leaning forward to kiss the back of his knuckles.

“Q—Alex, I would be honored,” he murmured, catching Q by surprise. He looked up in time to catch James’s gentle smile, seconds before the agent gently pulled him closer for another kiss. “Thank you,” he said after a moment, his lips still brushing Q’s. He hesitated, and then quietly asked, “Is this what was bothering you yesterday?”

Q nodded, shrugging with a shoulder. “I didn’t know how you would react, given your past preferences,” he said bluntly, but James nodded as though in confirmation, tightening his hand around Q’s for a moment. “But you’re welcome,” Q said, grinning as James reached for the star behind him. “When you put that up, put it near lights so that we can get some light on the ceiling.”

“Yes _sir,_ ” James said before reaching for the star, eyeing the cat for a moment. Missy merely yawned as she stretched out on the couch, still covered in catnip. “I may have to buy more in order to win over her cooperation…”

“Or I can teach you to get along, I’ve lived with her long enough to know how and it will be easier on your wallet,” Q said, plugging the lights back in as James eased the star into place, and then reached out a moment later to catch Q around the waist with an arm when Q tried to go to the iPod. “James, music,” he said, squirming in James’s grip as the agent turned and switched the iPod on, lights dancing across the floor and ceiling in time to the music.

“ _Rocking around the Christmas tree, at the Christmas party hop…”_

“Dance with me,” James said, grinning when Q easily moved into position with him.

“Ordering _me_ around now, Mr. Bond?” Q teased even as he fell into step with the agent, pulling James close to him. “I take it that this is paybacks for ordering you around on the comms?” he asked, laughing when James leaned forward and nuzzled underneath his jaw. “Yes, yes, okay, it’s paybacks!” he squealed when James ran his hands up his cardigan, easily locating the ticklish spots along Q’s ribs.

“I love you,” James murmured as he rested his face into the crook of Q’s neck.

“I love you too,” Q whispered back as he rested his forehead against James’s, somehow managing to keep up with the rhythm of the song.

_Everything is going to be all right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story! Thank you all for the support, and for bearing with me and the slow updates :)


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